You Said We'd Meet Again
by C. Hawthorne
Summary: Her memory is in a distant corner of his mind, away from the immediate and even the subconscious. She floats in the abyss, sheathed behind his worries and inhibitions. She'll be gone forever... right?
1. bizarre discovery

You Said We'd Meet Again, A Bleach Fanfic

**A/N:** Yeah, so it's time for another Silver Wings story. I'm not going to reveal the pairing, but I think it's pretty obvious so... you figure it out. A romance/drama... yeah... and a bit of humor but... there's no third category (darn you FanFiction)!! There will be pairings other than the main one so keep an eye out for those. And the minor characters will be taking on some more serious roles in the story (like the characters in Ichigo's class that don't have as much story behind them). It will be about 60,000-100,000 words... so it'll be pretty big. Don't worry... it probably won't swing out of plot or take confusing jumps. I'll do the best I can with this fanfic.

Chapter One

_**A **_**B**iza_**r**__re__** Discov**_e**r**y

Ichigo ran a hand through his bright orange hair, listening to the sounds of the late summer morning. He had never quite had an eye for detail, but in his boredom he was paying attention to nature. He'd had quite a problem with getting to sleep lately, but there was no true reason why. Maybe it was just stress again. Rukia wasn't here to bug him, so that wasn't it. It might be because Isshin forced an extra slice of pie on him at dinnertime and it was upsetting his digestive tract. Eh, there were a lot of reasons, and he didn't quite feel like pondering them right about now.

The substitute Soul Reaper got up slowly and stretched, his neck killing him from sleeping on it the wrong way. Someone had been vacuuming late in the night, and he had shoved his face under a pillow to drown out the noise. All in all, it hadn't been a very restful night.

Ichigo changed into his green pants and "Nice Vibe" purple T-Shirt. Feeling a yawn coming on, he ducked, but it never arrived. Straightening up, Ichigo looked into the mirror beside his desk that Isshin had purchased some time ago. "So my son can see just how handsome he truly is," he had said. Ichigo had never used it, but it was there all the same.

His own face stared back at him as always, but there were dark circles tinged under his eyes. Odd. Ichigo wasn't depressed, and he wasn't pale enough to have natural shadows. So what was the catch here?

"Bro, it's me Yuzu," Her high voice called into the room, and Ichigo slapped the mirror down on the desk. He didn't want her thinking he was vain, or she would report to Isshin and some stupid father-son talk would most likely follow.

"Come in," he replied blankly, lowering himself to the bed as his little sister entered the room. Yuzu wore a blue overall dress and a white shirt, looking innocent and quiet as always. "Ichigo, Rukia would like some more towels. She said you had some extra ones in your closet, and I..."

"Go on and take them, then," Ichigo gave her his permission quietly as he lay back down. "Yuzu, tell Dad to leave me alone this morning. I didn't get much sleep." He closed his eyes, and heard the slide of the closet. Then Yuzu left the room, and he was free to think at last. But what was there to really think about? Nothing, absolutely nothing. There were no Arrancar, no Bount, and no Hollows running awry. Just a useless Saturday afternoon with no motivation.

Ichigo pulled his bedcovers over himself and closed the window with one arm. Noise was not going to interrupt his sleep this time, or he would have to kick some serious ass... Wait, where was Kon? He was usually trying to push Ichigo over the edge at this time. Well, the less Kon the better, Ichigo thought optimistically, furrowing his brow and turning over.

He lay there for around a half an hour, trying the best he could, but sleep refused to roll over him. This was just… damn. Ichigo blinked and sat up, accepting the fact that it was totally useless now, and put his feet on the floor. One of them was half asleep, so Ichigo hobbled across the room to his door. With one swift movement he swung it open and a rush of sunlight poured in from the windows and illuminated his scowling face. The kitchen was totally empty except for Yuzu, who was at work on some form of food. Ichigo yawned and addressed his little sister.

"Yuzu, where's—"

"Dad? He's with Rukia and Karin! I'm making them a picnic!" she cut him off with a wide smile, indicating a picnic basket sitting on the counter next to her cooking supplies. "You can come too, Ichi-nii! In fact, Rukia said she wanted you to come with us!" her brown eyes twinkled as she got back to work. "They're at Karakura Park!"

Typical. Isshin had roped Rukia into an outing at the park, and Karin came along because she had nothing better to do. And Kon had probably come along too, hidden in Rukia's backpack or something. Terrific. Yuzu, the de facto mother of the family, was heading the cooking and supplies, and as always, no one had bothered to wake Ichigo. Not that he truly minded, of course, because he really hated it when people barged into his bedroom like they owned the place.

"Fine," Ichigo muttered, not telling her that it was about time he left the house. Once he thought about it, Ichigo realized that he didn't get out very much any more. There was an extreme shortage in rampaging Hollows, and with Aizen dead there were no Arrancar. But he had absolutely no life nowadays. He just sat idly in his room, at work on school stuff, speaking to no one but Yuzu and Rukia, and deflecting his father's attacks when they came about. It was somewhat pathetic, but Ichigo didn't have much to live for. He hadn't transformed into a Soul Reaper in roughly two weeks, and life was getting to be a bore.

He strode out onto the deserted street of his neighborhood alone, looking angry and detached as always. A lone fly whizzed past him, and followed him for most of the way there. The sun was in the center of the sky with a little tilt toward the west, which meant it was nearing the late afternoon. Heat beat down on Ichigo's neck, irritating him, but he didn't say anything as he neared the park. It was crowded with numerous flocks of people, stupid, useless people. They had no clue what it was like to be as stressed as he was. They were without a care in the world, free as birds.

"Ichigo!" called a familiar female voice, and Ichigo groaned inwardly as his fellow Soul Reaper Rukia Kuchiki cantered toward him, wearing a light blue ruffled dress and Yuzu's sun hat. She smiled good-naturedly, but Ichigo knew it was just an act to sucker his family—and so far, none of it had failed.

"Hey," said Ichigo flatly. Rukia pouted, but didn't say anything. "When the hell is this going to be over with?"

"Like you have anything else to do." Ichigo didn't say it, but he admired Rukia's bluntness with him. "Who knows? Maybe around sunset or whenever your dad gets tired of it all…" she was naïve sometimes.

"Which'll be never," he reminded, running a hand through his vivid hair. A breeze flew through the trees, causing Rukia's dress to blow and nearly taking her into the wind current. She was a tiny girl, but her personality deeply contrasted with her stature.

"You know Ichigo," Rukia said, "It might not be so bad, if you just try to get along with your family. They don't say it but I think they miss being around you sometimes…" she bit her lip and turned away from him. "They're just over the hill. Come with me." She tilted her hat forward and ambled off, and Ichigo followed slowly. Why was she so cheery? Her life had less meaning than his, mostly because she was dead. So what made her so effervescent, huh?

Ichigo reached the bottom of the hill to see his father chatting animatedly to Karin, or at least attempting to, while sitting on a threadbare yellow picnic blanket. Karin was faced away from her father, fumbling with a strap on her camera case. Rukia settled on the edge of it, while the orange-haired teen hung back with a wary look. A day with his idiot father and reclusive sister, along with the bunny-obsessed Rukia, was enough to drive him to insanity. But for now, he supposed he would have to deal with it. He strode unhurriedly toward the group, and while he was doing so his father exclaimed loudly.

"MY SON! You've decided to join us on our little family excursion!" he looked toward the heavens, his eyes glimmering with joy. "Masaki, our two difficult children have finally opened up to their father and—"

"Shut up, Dad," Ichigo cut in. "I had nothing better to do." He shot a glance at Rukia, who smirked. "Now let's just get this over with."

Isshin gasped. "Ichigo, why are you so cruel to me?" his expression grew stony. "I am your one and only father, who gave you life and bought you clothes and puts food on your table and—"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks for all that," Ichigo muttered, yet loudly. "What's the point of this picnic, anyway? Just to tell me how unappreciative I am? Well, I won't be here to participate."

"Ohhhh, Ichigo," Rukia pouted, and Ichigo groaned with a roll of his eyes. She was putting on that brainless schoolgirl routine again. "Why won't you listen to your dad? He has done nothing but be there for you!" she pretended to tear up, and Isshin beamed.

"Ichigo, you should follow Rukia's example!" he suggested, patting Rukia on top of her head and pulling her into a hug. "She knows what it's like to love her family!"

Ichigo watched as Rukia's facial expression went slack. Her façade fell and she gently pushed Isshin away. She was thinking about Byakuya and the little warmth he had shown toward her, and Hisana, who had abandoned her as a baby in Inazuri. No one in Rukia's family had shown real, genuine love for her, and although the Byakuya had adopted her, he only did so in respect for Hisana's last wish.

"Thank you, Isshin." She said it quietly, but looked distant. Rukia turned away and looked into the trees, her black hair curtaining the entire left side of her white face.

It was Karin who broke the silence, which was a surprise to them all. "So, like Ichigo asked, what's the purpose of this trip?"

"Family fun!" Isshin exclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air and not noticing that he had nailed Ichigo in the side of the head. "It's called bonding, Karin! This family needs it more than any other!" he grinned widely and Karin sweat dropped.

"Mmmm," Ichigo grumbled. "You need to use some quick bond glue and stick yourself to a truck's tires."

"What was that, Ichigo?" Rukia said, her ordinary condition coming back.

"You heard me."

"I sure did. You said that bonding is something to be treasured." She sighed and put her chin on her knees, as a butterfly landed on her arm. Not a Hell Butterfly. Just a normal, bright red butterfly. Its wings fluttered, and Rukia chuckled slightly. Ichigo had never thought of her as a sentimental person, but the look on her face suggested otherwise.

They were quiet for a while. Ichigo sat on the grass, thinking about how annoying his father was. Rukia gazed at the foliage, thinking about everything that had happened. Karin brooded silently. Isshin thought of his lovely wife Masaki and how much he missed her. It was then that Yuzu called to them, a picnic basket under her arm. Isshin was the first to rise. He raced for the basket and thanked his daughter, then settled on the blanket to devour the food inside.

Sunset approached quickly as Ichigo lay indolently on the grass. It itched, but he didn't care. The sun was going red and sinking beneath the hill, and this was the time he liked most out of the day. Rukia was curled up in a ball on the knoll, breathing the scent of the grass. Isshin lay lazily across the blanket, causing his daughters to have to be scratched by the grass as well. It had been a long day of literally doing nothing, and Ichigo was so bored he felt like he was suffocating. But no, they wouldn't go home until it was totally dark. "Because that's just how I roll!" Isshin had explained.

Ichigo looked down at his green pants. It was a good thing the grass stains were the same color, or he would have to ask Isshin for another pair and his father would refuse, rambling on about how ungrateful his son was most of the time.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, and he felt a soft, smooth substance in one of them. Ichigo closed his fingers around it, the piece of fabric that was so light it was almost like water, and slowly pulled it out. It was a red silk ribbon, and the edges were a little frayed with age. How long had it been there? Ichigo pressed it to his nose, and inhaled. It smelled of… something sweet and sad. It was a melancholy aroma. What had it been doing in his pocket?

"Yuzu, is this your ribbon?" his blond sister shook her head. Karin did the same, and Ichigo knew Rukia didn't wear hair ribbons. Why was it... why did he have it...?

Ichigo sighed. He'd have to ponder this mysterious ribbon later, because Rukia's mobile phone beeped with the alert of a Hollow.

**A/N: **So? What did you think of the first chapter!? Come on, please review and tell me! Make the review detailed and I will make the next chapter more detailed! How bout them apples?


	2. obsessions

I know it's been almost three years.

Deal with it.

,.,.,.,,.,.

Mornings were difficult for Ichigo.

Be it Isshin, Rukia, or the twins pestering him, someone always was. Someone always wanted something. ("Show me your uppercut, son!") ("Oi, Ichigo! Wake the hell up!") ("Ichi-nii, can you help me with my homework?")

But one morning—particularly the one after his discovery of the ribbon—was by far the most difficult. Because that morning, it was the ribbon that was pestering him.

By no means was he a schizophrenic; Ichigo not bothered by the ribbon because it was talking to him or anything of the like— but because he found himself endlessly, inerrably fascinated with it, coupled with an almost obsessive desire to protect it. He wondered briefly if he was going crazy, but then it would have already happened by now given most of the things that happened in his day-to-day life.

Maybe he just needed to get a life.

At school, he questioned Orihime, but she said it did not belong to anyone she knew of. Rukia put in jibes about how annoying he was, keeping it in his pocket like that, but she could be ignored so long as he had schoolwork to busy himself with. And he sure as hell had a lot of it – Miss Ochi, he decided, must be on the rag.

Halfway through the day, he took the ribbon out of his pocket at lunch and, after a moment of staring, irritated, at it, he decided that this business must come to an end. It was just something he'd found in a field on a windy day, nothing more.

He still kept it in his pocket, though. Rukia guffawed pretentiously at that.

Fourth period, however, was an anomaly, in that they got a new student. She was introduced by his ancient history teacher as Satoru Manabi, standing rather rigidly at the front of the classroom. Her violet-black hair was plaited on her shoulder.

She sat next to him, in the empty seat Keigo vacated whenever he switched into Civics and Economics.

Her eyes, though, were bizarre. Large, limpid orange, focused on her paper as she wrote out the notes on the board. Ichigo watched her, peripherally of course, his nose crinkled. New girls at this school were usually irritatingly self-centered and egotistical, with the same cookie-cutter personally. However, Satoru seemed content to just _be, _sit and watch the projector with agonizing concentration, not scouting around for men like the other girls (save for Rukia, whose nose was buried in a comic book).

Her attitude intrigued him like nothing else.

Rukia sat with him under the tree at lunchtime, prattling on about Renji's sudden 'preoccupation' with some girl that had just started in the Central 46. It went in one ear and out the other, that is of course until she groused, "Ichigo!"

"Sorry." He tore his eyes away from Karakura High School's newest student, alone on a metal bench with a sandwich. "Wasn't paying attention."

"Well, that much was clear." Ocean eyes rolled and, without a hitch, Rukia barreled back into her rant. He continued to watch the new student, perplexed by her disinterest in the other girls around who, with their tittering voices, asked her endless questions, _where did you come from _and _is there anybody you think is cute yet? _

Ichigo bit his lip. "That's weird."

"What is?" Rukia dropped her complaints for just a moment, surveying the entranced look on Ichigo's face. Following his eyes, she discovered with a hint of amusement that he was ogling the new girl. "Ahhh, I see. You humans are so predictable."

He rolled his eyes. "Come off it. I'm just a little confused. Normally transfers don't shut the hell up on their first day."

"She's just shy, then." Rukia stretched her legs out, leaning against the tree and biting into her sandwich. "Not everyone can be a social butterfly. Oi! Satoru!"

"Rukia—" Ichigo hissed.

"Ah?" the girl answered, cocking her head to the side. She drifted over to them. "Did you call my name?" And when she approached, there was an elfin quality about the way she walked; _waltzed _would be more appropriate, because with each footfall she barely grazed the ground. Ichigo found it strange.

"I'm Rukia. Rukia Kuchiki." The shorter girl got to her feet.

"Satoru Manabi." A jaunty little bow; he thought he saw her curtsy a bit. "You're the first person who actually introduced themselves! Is everyone at this school so _rude?"_

Ichigo's mouth was dry, since when he saw her face, a chord struck within him; a tiny, distant one. "Have we met before?"

A light frown. "No, I don't think so." Satoru twirled about. "I'm new here, you see. I came from Usaga." (A prestigious preparatory academy outside city limits, his brain supplied dimly). "This school is smaller. I like it."

Rukia winked at Ichigo; he rolled his eyes. "I'm Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Ichigoooo… Strawberry?" she laughed. "I guess it's not your fault."

"Guess not," he replied flatly. So much for her being quiet and unobtrusive.

The bell sounded; he gathered up his trash and put it in his box; leaving hers in front of the tree, Rukia followed him away from Satoru, whose acrobatic walk, while theatrical enough, was painfully slow.

And he could have sworn they've met before.

,.,.,.,.,.,,.,

His sleep was erratic that night; between the noise of the TV in the living room (where Isshin watched womens' wrestling) and the muffled sounds Rukia tapping away on her phone in his closet (unabashedly continuing though he'd screamed at her multiple times) it was impossible to remain in dreamland for longer than twenty minutes at a time.

Ichigo figured it was time for a walk.

The air was balmy, alight with fireflies; they were drawn to the fluorescent lights of the shining letters atop the Clinic. Checking his watch, he discovered it was **12:53 AM. **On a normal night, he was dreaming of being Captain-Commander around this time.

Ha. Like that would ever happen.

Idly, he listened to the yammerings of his neighbors as he walked through the rows of houses; it was oddly peaceful, and for a moment he escaped the perils of the questions that damn ribbon had him asking himself.

Oh, and Satoru. For reasons unknown, her attitude was irking him unbelievably; normally he ignored girls like that, let them terrorize Keigo and Mizuiro instead.

There was just something about the dayglow stare she'd given him, under the tree, when she laughed about his name. He'd seen her before; he knew it, if only in passing.

"Why are you out here alone?"

His head jerked to the left at the voice of an annoyingly short white-haired Captain. "I could ask you the same question."

Hitsugaya pursed his lips, his green eyes lit up by the gibbous moon in the distance. "It's really not your business. I've just been asked to patrol this area because as I'm sure you've noticed, bizarre things tend to happen here. Now, why are you out so late?"

"It's really not your business," Ichigo countered, scratching at his own scalp and smirking.

"_Kurosaki—"_

"Just needed to get away from Rukia." That was _sort of _the truth, he supposed. "Where's Rangiku?"

Small shoulders shrugged, and Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. "Somewhere in the next city over. We're supposed to meet up in an hour. You should be getting home," he advised, without hostility, but as if he actually cared.

Whatever intentions he may have had, they were wasted on Ichigo. "I'll get around to it. See you."

And he was alone again, drifting through the labyrinth-like streets of his subdivision. Hitsugaya's appearance should really have had a million things going through his head, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

All that held Ichigo's attention, now, were a frayed vermillion strip of fabric and, more recently, a spritely girl with haunting orange eyes.

.,.,.,.,

Updates exist now, by the way.

Short chapters, but updates.

Let's hope you haven't abandoned the story, like I did.


End file.
